One morning four
months ago, I woke up to a terrible noise. Off in the distance, massive
bulldozers were tearing down the forest in our backyard. Without a word of
warning, the neighbor had decided to clear cut the property bordering our yard.
When the snow melted, the newly revealed devastation was overwhelming; the land
lay gouged and strewn with deadfall too small to be of use for pulp
processing. I could not begin to fathom
the loss of life- the trees, animals and our connection to Earth.

The yoga mat is my
ballast when I can no longer focus. I broaden
the collarbones and descend the shoulderblades to recreate space and
release the muscles adducting my heart. I practice breathing. After all these
years of practice, why is it still so hard to breathe?
Where would I be
without my mat? Yoga is my companion, my teacher. And yes, I know the forest
will grow back eventually. Meanwhile I need to practice patience, balance and
breathing.
By Heidi Martin
Heidi is a current
member of the Yoga Centre Winnipeg 200 hour teacher training program.
No comments:
Post a Comment